


Reunion

by Elphabuddy



Category: Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe, The Prom - Sklar/Beguelin/Martin
Genre: Gen, High School Reunion, Hurt/Comfort, Ice Cream, Late Night Conversations, deep conversation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:28:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24028153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elphabuddy/pseuds/Elphabuddy
Summary: What if Barry Glickman went to Westerburg High? What if he never went to prom because Westerburg cancelled it due to the unfortunate events of 89’? What if he went to his 30 year class reunion?
Relationships: Barry Glickman & Veronica Sawyer
Comments: 1
Kudos: 7





	Reunion

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WickedDisney55](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WickedDisney55/gifts).



> TW: Suicide Mention, Homophobia Mention, Q-Slur

Returning to the familiar halls of Westerburg High fills Barry Glickman's gut with a shocking amount of dread. Kurt Kelly slamming him into lockers, Ram Sweeney dumping milk on him, teachers that don't do a single thing until someone kills themselves.

He isn’t sure why he went back for his class’s 30th reunion. Maybe it was Emma's begging him to live without regret (which she’s done since she learned that he missed his prom), maybe it was Angie's insistence that he shows everyone how wrong they were about him, maybe it was Deedee telling him that he’s a queen and deserves to reign wherever he goes.

Whatever the case, he's there.

He makes it to the gym doors and sighs. The faint memory of smoke fills his nose. The school still smelled like smoke when he graduated. Logically, he knows that it can't actually smell like smoke after 3 whole decades have passed yet his brain doesn't seem to realize that.

He scans the room and makes small talk with some of his old theater friends. They congratulate him on his success and ask about his adventures. He lets his big personality take over, greatly gesturing as he recounts his tales. The longer he makes his rounds, the more he wants to be anywhere but there. 

He steps outside for a break and pulls his phone out to check his texts. Alyssa sent him a picture of Emma and her mother gardening together and Emma sent him pictures of her plants. He shoots off a couple questions about her strawberries, which he knows have been struggling for a little, before he closes his phone and shoves it in his pocket.

Barry looks up and finds Veronica Sawyer on the steps, sniffling from the cold and smoking. Her sleeveless purple dress is thin and plain. "Have you been here the whole time?" he asks quietly.

She flinches and whips around to look at him. "Why do you care?"

The chilly air blows past him, prompting him to remove his suit coat and place it on her shoulders. He sits on the step by her and looks at the jagged indentation in the sidewalk that never got repaved after the explosion. "JD meant a lot to you, huh?"

"No, I fucking hate him," she deadpans, taking a long drag of her cigarette as she slides her arms in the jacket. "Amazing that I'm smoking where he was left smoking, right?"

"That was dark," Barry states grimly.

Veronica flashes him a brief smirk as she lights another cigarette with the almost dead one, stubbing the short one out and flicking it into the crevice. "Dark, yes, but true."

"Aren't you a bit old to be this edgy?"

"Are you a bit famous to slum it with the peons?" she sneers aggressively.

"Babe, my last musical closed on opening night. I'm not exactly popular anymore. Neither are you," he states.

"And he's humble too, folks. He's just human like us," Veronica mocks. "As if Martha would have ever let your guest role slip on Criminal Minds since then slip past me. You’re a local celeb. The town is proud. Get used to it. Also, I shouldn't have been popular in the first place so frankly I don't give a fuck whether I am."

"Maybe you shouldn't have been but it was better you than one of the Heathers," he says.

She lazily blows her smoke in his face. "A goldfish would be better than them back then. That’s not saying much."

Barry waves in front of his face, annoyance bubbling in him. "You know what I meant. Westerburg was the 10th circle of hell. Freaks, queers, and nerds barely survived with the likes of them in charge," he huffs.

A devilish grin falls on her lips. "Is the great Barry Glickman speaking ill of the dead? Do say more," she chuckles.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-"

"Don't be. Heather was cruel and the jocks were worse. I mean, fuck, Ram was a... Sorry, ignore that, not my story. But whatever you say about them is probably well deserved," Veronica snaps to cut him off. She slides a flask from the inner pocket of his coat and chuckles, uncapping and sniffing it. "What's this?"

"It’s mine. I thought I might need some help getting through tonight. The only reason I'm here is because my daughter is told me that I had to and I'm the fool that listened." Barry plucks his flask from her hand and takes a small swig.

“Daughter? Never knew you had one.” Veronica glances at him with a raised eyebrow.

“Not like blood or even legally really. Emma, the girl I got a prom for. Do you have any kids?" He hands her the flask.

Veronica snorts. "Depends on if you count cats." She takes a large gulp and hands back the flask.

"No," he replies.

She smirks as she deeply inhales more smoke and slowly sighs it out. "Then no," she replies.

They stare out at the parking lot. Comfortably speechless in an odd fuzz of melancholy and unspoken memories. Veronica scoots closer ever so slightly, though there’s a good chance that she’s trying to soak in the heat radiating off of his body.

"Fuck, I can't believe I'm here again," Barry remarks.

"You and me both." Veronica takes back the flask and drinks from it. "I wouldn't be if it were up to me. Never could say no to Martha when she pulled her puppy eyes. “It'll be good to see everyone again”, my ass."

"You're not getting the closure you hoped for either, huh?"

She laughs dryly as she flicks another cigarette butt into the crater. "I only hoped that this wouldn't open old wounds up too badly. What kind of closure did you expect from the shitshow?"

"I thought it would feel good to prove to them that I wasn't some theater freak or hapless homo, that I made something of myself. It's all so empty now that I’m here. It will never be good enough. I'm just exhausted. It feels more like a press day than a reunion," he replies, shaking his head in disbelief. "Wanna hear something stupid?"

"Shoot," Veronica says.

"I know it's been 30 years but it still smells like smoke in there."

"Yeah, well, unscented candles were a bad idea," she snorts. “Kinda why I’m out here. Needed some fresh air.”

Barry picks up the empty pack of cigarettes and chuckles as he jiggles it hollowly. She rolls her eyes. “They’re different and you know it.”

“Yeah, I do. Also, that gym is unbearable. There is so many people in there but all I want to do is go home and listen to Emma learning to play whatever song she's into this week. It didn't help that once Kelly and Sweeney-" he draws a swift line to his neck, adding a tongue click at the end- "and then suddenly everyone wanted a gay bestie. Flem was all over me until graduation about all the things I could live for. Never mind that Kelly gave me a concussion and Sweeney broke my arm a month before they bought the farm. I wasn't suicidal. I was relieved. I could finally live in peace for the first time since the day I got into theater. And I still feel awful for hating them like I did to this day. They must have been struggling pretty badly to hit the point they did. I'm one of the lucky ones. I survived."

Veronica goes silent, staring into the hole as if she's watching a ghost float out of it. She paws through her bag and finds a loose cigarette in the bottom of it. She lights it, inhaling deeply. "No, they were shitty people. You're not lucky for surviving. You're strong. No amount of self-hatred excuses how we treated you. Hell, how anyone treated you. People like us, like this fucking class, we don't need or deserve a reunion. Not after what happened that year. I mean, fuck, it's not like most of us were actually friends to begin with."

"Hear, hear, lamb," Barry says, raising his flask slightly. He takes another swig, the fiery liquid warming him from the inside out as the autumn air hits them with a stiff gust.

Veronica groans quietly at the remains of her last cigarette. "I'm sorry. I promise I'm not normally such a mega bitch. I-" Her voice cracks.

Barry wraps his arm around her tentatively as she steels herself with a quiet huff. She accepts the touch, burrowing into his shoulder. "It's all my fault that they died. It's all my fault. I hate myself for missing Heather and JD but I do. I miss them so much and I know it's bad. Heather pushed Martha and Heather M. into attempting to kill themselves and JD nearly bombed the school. I don't understand why everything happened. I don’t understand why I’m still here when they aren’t."

"Ok, time to go," Barry says. He stands up and offers up his hand. Veronica stares at him perplexed. "I'm getting you away from this public safety hazard and getting you some ice cream. Or a slushie. You liked them, right?"

Her face twitches, disgust poorly hidden despite her efforts. "I used to but they gross me out now. Ice cream sounds lovely," she answers.

"Then I'll heat up my car and bring it around, alrighty?"

Veronica nods so he goes to grab his car. She’s still staring blankly at the crater when he pulls up but the sight of his car prompts her to stand.

***

Barry pulls into the Snappy Snack Shack’s parking lot. Veronica pales. Her body stiffens and her breath speeds up. He looks her over, taking in her rapidly slipping state, before he shifts the car back into gear and drives them to a gas station instead. She's eased up a lot by the time he pulls in front of the new destination. "Thank you," she whispers barely audibly.

"No problem," he says, hopping out of the car with her.

Veronica grabs a bag of barbecue corn nuts and stands in front of the slushie machine, staring at the red and blue swirl around.

"Thought you said they were gross," he remarks without a hint of judgement.

She ducks her head and wanders off wordlessly to the frozen section in the back. He follows since he was on his way anyway. "You probably think I'm pretty fucked in the head, huh," she says. 

"I don't think that. Yes, your mental health isn't in tiptop shape tonight but how could it be? Westerburg is haunted. If it were up to me, I'd tear it down and never allow anything to be rebuilt in that area,” he replies.

Veronica rolls her eyes at that statement while she stares at the freezer. She yanks the door open and pulls out a pint of coffee ice cream. "You know it's not the building, right? It's the people in it. I'd love if it were as simple as rebuilding but it’s the mindsets of the people that passed through it.”

“They should still fix the pavement. It’s a liability and someone’s gonna get hurt,” Barry huffs indignantly as he grabs his own pint of chocolate.

Veronica chuckles emptily at that and nods. “Yeah. Fuck that crater.”

“Fuck that crater,” Barry echoes.

***

They sit in his warm car as they talk about their lives now and eat their ice cream. Veronica lives with 4 cats and Martha but she swears it’s just them being roommates. Both of them gave up on romance after the happenings of 1989 and no longer see a point to dating with how comfortable they are in their current lives. Veronica does add that they have a plan worked out in case that changes but their system works for now and neither sees it changing soon.

Also, she’s a journalist. Her articles are all published under various different aliases because her past followed her more than his did. He recognizes one of the names she lists off for positively reviewing multiple plays and musicals that he’s done, which he teases her for. She shrugs and tells him that Martha threatened her with an “or else”. She’s never tried her on an “or else” and she frankly doesn’t want to find out what it means.

She tells him about her bizarre research missions and wacky interviews. He tells her about his stage mishaps and weird rehearsals. And, while they do talk about some of their high school experiences, they do not speak of the ghosts of Westerburg again.

They swap stories until their ice cream is merely cream and the sun begins to poke out from the clouds. Veronica checks her phone. “Shit. Martha’s freaking out. She’s about to file a missing person report. One sec.” She types on her phone speedily and sighs. “Could we go back?”

“Of course, hun.” He puts the running car in gear and drives her back.

The ride back is noisier than the ride there since they have an actual conversation to carry this time. Martha is sitting in the front seat of the only car in the parking lot. She fangirls about Barry Glickman’s presence as she greets her friend. Barry gives Veronica a business card and tells her to keep in touch. She sends him a text so he has her number too.

On the drive home, Barry laughs to himself about how differently he expected the night to go and how happy he is that it didn’t go that way. It’s odd but maybe he got what he needed through that. He hopes that Veronica got what she needed from it as well.

And he knows his new cause too.

To make Westerburg repave their sidewalk so no one hurts themselves on that stupid crater. (Also, it’s an eye sore and he can’t stand it existing one moment longer.)

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr: elphabuddy  
> Also, thank you for the idea, WickedDisney55. Hope you enjoy my interpretation of your hc.


End file.
